


Playthings

by Dragonsandducks



Series: Mando and Ad’ika [3]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, I don’t know..... how spaceships work, very very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21661033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonsandducks/pseuds/Dragonsandducks
Summary: The child would not stop pressing buttons, figuratively and literally.
Relationships: The Mandalorian & The Child
Series: Mando and Ad’ika [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560583
Comments: 25
Kudos: 569





	Playthings

The child would not stop pressing buttons, figuratively and literally. 

They had been back on the  _ Razor Crest _ for a day, and restless child had so far clicked on the windshield cleaners (mostly harmless), cockpit lights (bad), and air regulators ( _ very _ bad). The Mandalorian had the child on his lap, a watchful eye on their tiny hands to be sure they touched nothing. 

“We need to get you some toys,” the Mandalorian decided. 

Standing up off the chair, he plucked the child up and cradled it in one arm, using the other to carefully climb the ladder down to the lower decks. “I have to have something you can play with down here,” he mused, searching the shelves for any stray, harmless objects. Unfortunately, his ship was made for a bounty hunter, not a baby. He certainly wasn’t going to let the child play with blades. 

There was a small tap on the Mandalorian’s shoulder. The child pointed at a round canteen, one that the Mandalorian had in case of a long journey. “That’ll work,” he said, handing the shiny object to the child. 

The child immediately got to work trying to devour the metal. The Mandalorian gave a long suffering sigh and slowly begin his climb back up to the cockpit. “Anything to keep you occupied.” 

The Mandalorian placed the child on the chair next to his and sat back down at the controls. He could hear the usual sounds of the ship’s inner workers, and accompanying them, the sound of small teeth gnawing on metal. 

“Careful,” the Mandalorian chided, quickly flipping the ship to autopilot. He turned to face the child and held out his hand. They handed over the canteen. “This,” the Mandalorian said, “is made of metal.” He knocked his hand against the canteen’s side, a dull  _ clang _ echoing through the cockpit. “That will break your teeth,  _ Ad’ika _ .” 

The child seemed to understand, and the Mandalorian placed the canteen into their waiting hands. 

They then began to slam it against the edge of the control panel, creating a tuneless noise that one might compare to music. 

The Mandalorian cringed at the harsh sound, but it was better than breaking their teeth, right? 

After the sound had gone on for ten minutes, the Mandalorian began to think that broken teeth would be the lesser of two evils. 

“Alright, alright, enough,” he snapped. He turned to face the child, who smiled mischievously up at him. The Mandalorian came to a realization. “You just want attention, don’t you?” 

The child cooed. The Mandalorian lifted them up and placed them on his lap. “Wanna learn to fly a ship?” he asked. The child’s eyes brightened. “Alright,” the Mandalorian said. “ _ This _ is called a control panel…” 

**Author's Note:**

> this was just a fun thing I wrote while I was supposed to be learning math. oops.


End file.
